Wyrmy Fanfiction Contest

[HopefulMonster]

You're pretty close, actually.

Being foxes, they adore tricks, being clever, and go to great lengths to prove just HOW clever they are! This can take the form of pranks, sneaky flattery, or coming up with unique ways to bestow courtship gifts. Pipefoxes pride themselves on being able to be in plain sight and yet unseen, so displaying a gift or tidbit of a favorite food RIGHT where the object of their affection was JUST looking a second ago is considered a mark of speed and stealth, both highly desirable traits in a mate.

Of course, as they say, pride goeth before the fall, and occasionally such attempts end in hilarious but not quite what the suitor had in mind results.

I will say, pipefoxes love shiny things, and from what I've noticed, tend to absolutely loooove getting their ears and neck ruff scritched. I'd hazard a guess that grooming would be a bit part of the courtship dance, and the ensuing flattery. ;3

[ShyCrestedGirl]

I am going to write mine as .. sort of like.. an observation journal entree. Is that alright?

[ShyCrestedGirl]

I doubt I'll win but man Im going to try

Wyrm Observation Journal

Entry 345
January 1st 2014

I’ve been out in the cold for days, watching, waiting, observing. I’ve seen many things but recently the one I’ve dubbed “Rowan” has started exhibiting some strange behaviors I have not seen as of yet. Rowan is usually very secretive and aggressive, not letting me get close but recently she seems to be preoccupied with other things. She has been stockpiling her food, mostly her absolute favorites, in addition to the copious amounts she has already stowed away for winter. She has also been sneaking off to peer at another wyrm at night, the one I’ve dubbed “Ethereal”, a beautiful creature who only comes out at night to bask in the glow of the moon and sip nectar and eat pollen from the moon flowers. I wonder what this means.

Entry 350
January 10th 2014

Today I feared for the life of the seemingly gentle Ethereal when Rowan approached her out of the blue. The beautiful white wyrm was visibly startled when the bright red Shrieker came out the brush. Rowan squiggled over very confidently with a sly little grin on her face and a nice plump cricket in her mouth. She laid the bug down right in front the dainty Jewel Hunter. Ethereal tipped her head, sniffed the insect, and with a very disgusted and offended look she gave Rowan the most aggressive meeping I’m sure the little wyrm has ever had, she looked so stunned and a little hurt. Rowan squiggled off quickly and Ethereal went about her business.

Entry 355
January 15th 2014

I’ve been watching both Rowan and Ethereal more closely these past few days, I have a feeling something interesting is happening. Rowan has not been sleeping well, shes been squiggling back and forth in her little den at night and searching through the snow and underbrush during the day. Today, however, she seemed to be overly excited about something she found in a small hole in the hillside, I’m not quite sure what it was.

Entry 356
January 15th late night January 16th early morning

Rowan went to see Ethereal again this time the gift she offered seemed to please the dainty lass. I realized, when Ethereal picked it up in her beaky mouth, that the “thing” Rowan had given her was a gem, possibly even a rough diamond. After much meeping, flirtatious by the way it sounded, they two retreated back into Ethereal little nest, protected and hidden from site by many a vine, thorn, and flower.

Entree 368
January 27th

Since Rowan presented Ethereal with a lovely stone she has been making multiple trips from her own den back to Ethereal, transporting various items and her food hoard, shes also continued to lurk about and bring back all kinds of stones, broken pots, and anything that looks shiny or interesting.

Today I saw Rowan and Ethreal leave the nest, I fallowed for a bit before losing them so I decided to go back and peak in their little home. There had to be a ton of little odds and ends in there now. I cut myself up pretty badly trying to get through the thorn bush without messing it up and when I eventually got back in far enough to catch a glance of the nest I noticed what looked like an egg, all pearly white and red with light blue flecks here and there. How amazing these two female wyrms had fallen in love and had managed, by magic, or curse, or blessing, to produce offspring.

[Tora]

Right! Here's my entry. It's called The Right Moment:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1T80 ... Fa9TI/edit

[SandySchreiber]

Clockwork Conundrum

Gadget popped out of his stuffy shipping box and looked over his new surroundings. Lots of open space, good light..and many friendly wyrms to squirm with!

One wyrm in particular drew his undivided attention…the silver-furred Tesla that shyly huddled next to the larger lavender-colored wyrm who had released him and the other new ones. Gadget could hear the swift clicking and whirring of her gears, indicating her nervousness.

Several of the established house-wyrms came over to greet him, but the female Tesla hid behind some packing peanuts. He could not help but glance at her gleaming fur every chance he got, even as he was trying to make friends with the house-wyrms. He introduced himself and tried to remember names.

There was an emergency to deal with, as the last wyrm out of the box had lost her horn. As the squirm gathered around the distressed wyrm, trying to think of a solution, a very large, winged wyrm slithered over to the candy-striped mini whose sad cries had attracted him.
“Why, whatever is wrong, my dear? Surely you can’t be this upset over something as minor as a loose horn, can you? Why, that is such an easy fix! All you need to do is ask me for the favor….” The black-and-red wyrm’s voice was brash and deep, with an oddly accented cadence that was compelling.

Gadget watched the dark wyrm from a distance. The little brass Tesla could feel the power in the large wyrm, but he was frightening too. He was so big, and his teeth…..! But his blue eyes, so different from any wyrm Gadget had ever seen, were strangely kind. Could this fellow help the red-and-white striped wyrm?

Before the distressed wyrm could answer the dark one, a brightly-colored Phoenix flew into the room, alighting between the dark wyrm and the candy-striped one.
“Begone, foul one! These sweet wyrms do not need anything from you!”

The tatter-winged wyrm grumbled but quickly left, as the Phoenix worked her healing magic to heal the horn onto the head of the newest member of the squirm.

Everyone was happy as the wyrm was healed and whole, and ready to be a part of the group. Greetings were exchanged all around, noses touched, territories established. There was some floofing as dominance was established too. Gadget quickly learned that there was an order to the squirm, as his parents had told him there would be. He needed to establish his place in the squirm.

But most of all, he wanted to establish his place with the silver Tesla. She had retreated to her perch atop a glowing glass ball filled with purple and pink electrical arcs. He inched his way near her. She had not stayed to talk with the other wyrms, so he did not know her name.

He could hear her gears clicking and clacking. No…not a click-clack sound…more like a ‘tick-tock’.
‘Tick-Tock?” he said aloud. The silver lady perked up and looked down at him.
“How did you know my name?” she asked.
“Oh, I didn’t, exactly…it just seemed to be what your heart was saying to mine” Gadget replied, his brassy colored face growing more red. His fur floofed a little as he mentally kicked himself. What a silly thing to say!

Tick-tock smiled slightly and went back to her electricity-bath. “That’s….not really logical, you know. Hearts don’t talk. They just pump blood and oil. You probably just heard my servo-motor gears. They do have the rhythm of my name.” She shook her horned head gracefully and settled back into her basking. The sparking of the glass ball threw tints of purple and pink onto her silver fur. Almost as an afterthought she said; “Good luck in getting a nice hoard here. The Handlers treat their metal items with care and seldom let us near them. It’s so hard to make an impressive collection of parts.” She sighed and looked down at the brass wyrm again. “Parts are what we need, you know….to make new Teslas. Lots of parts.” She winked one dark eye at him and went back to her reverie.


Gadget was entranced. Tick-Tock was beautiful, smart, and definitely playing hard-to-impress. His father had warned him about the game that females played. Since new Teslas were made partly from metals and other tooled items, the ladies loved to make their prospective mates find the choicest bits of gear from which they would build their nestlings. Males vied for their ladies’ affections by finding the highest tech, the brightest metals, the smoothest, roundest gears and levers and bolts and screws. It was a fun contest among the males too, as each one got to show off his latest find, spurring on the others to try even harder.

Gadget knew what his mission was now; to find a hoard of metal tech that would impress the silvery Tesla whose name now whirred within his gears.

For the next few weeks the brassy Tesla squirmed around his new home. There was a large collection of paper blocks with pretty covers, but paper was useless to him. There was wood all over, and fur from the large mammals that padded about the house. Gadget did his best to avoid the furred mammals, as they might be tempted to bat him around, thinking him one of their toys. Although they were furred, Teslas did not use animal fur in constructing their nestlings.

The other wyrms, though friendly, were not much help. None of them cared for electronics or gadgetry, and had no suggestions for his search. There was a very large machine at one end of the main living area, but it projected huge images of strange things late into the night. The Handlers watched it often. They probably would not like the little wyrm pulling pieces off their favorite machine. Besides, it was entirely closed up, and the tiny horn on Gadget’s head was not strong enough to open any of the screws holding it together.

After quite some time, Gadget was about to give up hope of ever amassing a hoard worthy of his treasured silver Tick-Tock.
And then he remembered the dark wyrm who had offered to help Candy Cane. Yes, the Phoenix had shooed off the large fellow, called him ‘foul’, but what had he actually done? Most days he merely sits curled up on the tall lamp that gives off daylight. He smiles his toothy grin at the wyrms and the Handlers as they go about their business. The female Handler who brushes them and gives them good noms enjoys petting the large wyrm, and calls him Crowley. He never seemed to cause any one any harm.
He said he could help Candy Cane…maybe he could help Gadget?

Late one evening, when most of the wyrms had curled up in their various cubby holes, the brassy little wyrm squirmed his way up the lamp that held Crowley.
“I wondered when you’d be by, little Gadget.” said the black-and-red wyrm. “I was getting tired of waiting.”
Gadget floofed. How did he know?
“Well, out with it, boy. Did you want my help? I may look like I have all eternity..and well, frankly, I do…but I don’t want to spend it waiting for a Tesla who can’t even find the ball bearings to talk to me!”
“I…I want to impress Tick-Tock…you know, the silver beauty who lives on the glowing glass ball…” meeped Gadget, staring into the disconcertingly warm blue eyes of the large wyrm above him.

Crowley rolled those blue eyes as he said condescendingly “Plasma globe. It’s called a plasma globe. Interestingly enough, it was invented by Nikola Tesla, for whom your breed is named.” The tatter-winged wyrm smirked as his eyes took on a distant light. ‘He shouldn’t have made that deal…..”
He shook he head as he refocused on the little brass wyrm. “But that’s neither here nor there. So, what say you, my little clockwork friend? Do you want my help?”

“But…can you help me? I mean, help me to find some gears and bits of electronics that will really impress my silver Tick-Tock?”
Crowley smiled, his many teeth gleaming whitely in his midnight face. The red swirls decorating his facial ridges gleamed with ruby sparkles. “Of course I can help you, my little tin soldier! You want special kibbles n’ bits, and you will get them!” He leaned down to where Gadget curled around the lamp post and looked into the wyrm’s dark eyes with his mesmerizing blue ones. “Do we have a deal?”

“Y-yes” stammered Gadget. “I would be forever grateful for any help you could give me in finding special parts to impress my lady.”

“Well then, just sit back and let old Crossroads Crowley work his magic! Go back to your cubby-hole nest and dream sweet dreams. When you awake, you’ll have your special parts…and your lady’s heart, I’m sure.”

Gadget happily squirmed back to his little nest of wires and loose screws. What a nice fellow that Crowley was! He couldn’t understand why the other wyrms ignored him.

The next morning, when he awoke, he found scattered around his nest a collection of the oddest electronic pieces and doo-dads he had ever seen! Some of them were flat wafers of metal, with tiny lines of gold and even smaller dots of colored enamel. Some bits had glowing squares of glass, while others were wires twisted together with colored plastics. There were pieces of metal shaped like tiny rods, and they glowed with an eerie green light. They were warm, too.

No other wyrm had a hoard like his, he was sure! What a hatchling he and Tick-Tock could make!

He squirmed over to the silver Tesla’s nest and motioned her to follow him. When she saw his collection, she was delighted.
“Oh, Gadget! What an amazing hoard! I’ve never seen anything like it! These glowing warm things are delightful!” She wiggled closer to the brass wyrm, letting the static in the dry air make sparks along their fur where they touched each other. “You have done the Tesla proud, my dear. Shall we start putting these bits together and see what we can come up with…?” The silver wyrm winked one dark eye and touched her nose to his. A spark flew, making both of them laugh.

Gadget purred happily as he began sorting through the pile of treasure with his love. He glanced across the room in Crowley’s direction, and saw that the dark wyrm was once more smiling his toothy grin. “I’ll have to do him a favor someday” thought Gadget. “To repay him for his kindness….”

The end….?

[Tyrrlin]

Okay, here's my attempt. Man, it's been EIGHT YEARS since I wrote a short story. I hope you enjoy it!

Catnip (Tank x Munchkin)

“Purr purr purr purr….”

“Not AGAIN”, snarled Tank, floofing aggressively at Munchkin, who was happily squirming her way through the sleepy wyrmpile to snuggle with the big Growler. “Shut up, fall off the shelf, go AWAY!”

“Purr purr purr purr…”

Warm orange fur brushed alongside him. Tank laid his ears back and growled loudly, but a quick warning meep from Rii’Haku’s spot forestalled his attack. One sky-blue eye was staring straight at him.

“Tank. Stop. She’s just being friendly.”

The Seelie King may seem laid back and even inattentive at times, but he was quick to enforce peace in the Handler’s squirm. Unprovoked fights were Not Allowed.

*I* still think she’s provoking me, Tank grumbled to himself, lashing his tail angrily and slinking away to find a dark, unoccupied corner of the shelf. At least the Windstone gryphons leave us alone. He curled up into a stone-colored ball, white tailtip flicked across his nose. Stupid feline. Can’t be left alone, can’t reason with her, can’t fight her. He sighed deeply, trying to relax into sleep.

“Purr purr purr purr…”

Graaaaaaaah!

******

Thank Big Q for World of Warcraft. Tank was alone in his fascination. He could spend hours watching the Handlers play the game; exploring, mining(!), farming, fighting, questing, collecting treasure, killing endless mobs of creatures… all things that spoke deeply to his Growler soul. He squiggled up onto Him-Handler’s shoulder, meeping happily at the constant barrage of “rep grinding” kills. If only…

The Handler’s squirm was just too quiet, too peaceful! The original squirm of five fell in line with Rii’Haku’s enforcement of the Handler’s rule of No Fighting Or So Help Me… It wasn’t until much later that Tank appeared on-scene with a fair number of squirm-mates including Raj’na, Rii’Haku’s son. The big, contemptuous Standard initially seemed to be perfect for sparring and scuffling with, and Tank leapt on the opportunity. They had some splendid arguments…okay, fights, in the first few glorious days, but now Raj’na loomed over the entire Handler-home from his high perch on the opposite wall and Tank was stuck in the …happy… squirm of Teacups. It just wasn’t natural. Added to this indignity was the fact that Munchkin was completely, irrevocably enamored with him, and there was little he could do about it.

I suppose she’s cute, he mused, drinking in the clash-and-rend sounds of Him-Handler’s in-game conquests, but she’s so annoying! AND persistant! And you can’t even tell what she’s thinking with those tiny folded ears of hers! Tank bared his teeth at the screen full of dead enemies, channeling his annoyance. Take that and that and that! He floofed happily at the endless carnage provided by Him-Handler, temporarily forgetting his troubles. He was a Growler, he was born to fight!

******

“Purr purr purr purr…”

Tank cracked open one eye to find his vision filled, yet again, with fluffy orange stripes. He was just too tired to snarl.

“Purr purr purr purr…”

If he thought about it really hard, it almost sounded like a Growler’s snoring. With that, he found he was able to get back to sleep despite the intrusion.

The next morning, he awoke to find a catnip mouse carefully placed by his nose.

“Munchkin!”

******

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months. Tank resigned himself to the nightly barrage of happy purring and almost, almost, got used to the furry warmth by his side. The occasional presents of cat toys and stolen bits of food were rather touching, but he was a Growler! He was Tank, the winner (or at least came out even) of countless fights! He didn’t have time or affection for an overly-cuddly, too-fluffy, holy-Q-stop-purring-or-I’ll-bite-you, how-can-you-be-so-happy feline! Tank spent every moment he possibly could in Him-Handler’s presence, immersing himself in World of Warcraft. He even tried to sneak online to create his OWN account but, while the mouse was conquerable, the keyboard remained impossible for one wyrm to utilize. Every night, he resignedly squiggled his way back to the wyrm-shelf and Munchkin’s inexplicable adoration.

******

Tonight was different. It was quiet. It was too quiet.

Tank growled, cursed, tossed and turned. He was alone, and that was different. Other than the occasional sleepy murmur from the rest of the wyrmpile, there was silence. No rumbling purrs filled his ears. He was cold on one side. Something was wrong.

Where was Munchkin?

Tank perked his ears, swiveling them this way and that. Something was definitely wrong. Suddenly, he heard a loud hiss! It was coming from the other room! Before he even knew what he was doing, the big Growler had squirmed down the shelf, across the floor, into the next room, and found himself floofing protectively over a shivering, terrified Munchkin… face-to-face with THE CAT.

One did not mention THE CAT. THE CAT belonged to the Handler, and he was the terror of every wyrm in the Handler-home. Not even Raj’na, the largest wyrm in the squirm, tangled with THE CAT. THE CAT was the reason every Wyrm stayed on a shelf, he was death, he was claws and teeth, he was…

Attacking Munchkin.

Munchkin must have been trying to steal some more food from his bowl for me, Tank thought quickly, while sizing up his opponent. She got caught this time, and he was about to…

RAWWWRRRRRRRRR!!

A grey blur in the dark, Tank leaped forward, flailing and thrashing his body to avoid the lightning quick claw strikes. THE CAT arched back, trying to regain control, unsure of this new, aggressive adversary. Tank snarled again, swiftly slithering up to THE CAT’s shoulder.

BITEBITEBITE!

THE CAT yowled in protest, shaking his head vigorously to dislodge the nipping from his ear. Deciding this was entirely too much trouble for a bit of kibble, THE CAT skittered backwards, tail lashing. He glared at Tank, then, slowly assuming an air of nonchalance, padded away.

Tank beat THE CAT! He felt powerful, victorious, invincible. He felt protective. He felt amazing. He felt…

“Purr purr purr purr…”

He felt the rub of soft fur, of tiny ears, under his chin. Tank was a Growler. He won a fight. He won a female. He… was in love.

***fin***

[SandySchreiber]

Oh Tyr! That was completely adorable!
Very good writing style, and I love Tank's addiction to WoW!

[Moongara]

Written from Reth's prospective.

"Why is my handler making me do this? I keep asking over and over as I work my way up to Captain Bellatrix. She is terrifying, the fearsome pirate queen known for her short temper and vicious bite. I approach her very quietly, slowly, trying not to show fear and lay a rose before her. She growls at me, I don't run away but it is hard.
"I am Reth." I say, trying to keep the shake out of my voice. "I was wondering if you would like to go out with me to dinner...I think my handler called it a Date." I am so scared. I didn't think I would be this scared, after all my squirm is ruled by the even more terrifying Unseelie Queen Tiri and kept in order by her efficient and capable...and scary attendant, the Flickerling Shar'sha. After living with them, you would think I could handle anything...unfortunately I am not sure this is true.
Instead of answering she bites me on the nose. I want to cry from pain but I don't. I know better...crying will probably cause her to bite me again. She smiles, an intimidating smile...and then goes to bite me again. This time I dodge. She looks annoyed and amused at me.
"Well maybe I will spend some time with you, after all, Reth." She says, making my name sound like a threat. "You are the first one smart enough to know when to duck." I don't know whether to be happy or even more scared.
"This way, then, my lady." Speaking to her as I do to Shar'sha and Tiri, figuring that will impress and/or at least placate her.
"Make that 'my captain'." She says.
"This way, my captain." I said, inclining my head towards the open topped carriage pulled by my handler's Starstrike dragon that she let me borrow to help with my date with the pirate queen. Bellatrix takes her time getting to the carriage, inspecting it and its dragon.
"Where did you get the carriage?" She asks, looking it over again.
"My handler made it." I said, sounding proud for the first time in the encounter. "She makes all kinds of wyrm things." I go around back of the carriage and reach into the trunk attached to the back of the carriage and pull out the blue and gold collar my handler made for me to give Bellatrix.
"This is for you." I say, presenting her the collar. "I hope it fits." She picks it up with her nose and slides it down onto her neck. It fits very well, I am so pleased.
"It is nice enough, I am guessing also made by your handler."
"Yes, my captain."
"You have an interesting handler." She says. She turns and gets into the carriage, taking her place on one of the large pillows that make up the passenger area of the carriage.
"Where would you like to go for dinner, my captain?" I ask, getting into the carriage after her. "It is always best to let my date choose where to go for dinner." Or so my handler suggested.
"A good pub and I will drive." She says shoving me out of the way...and nearly out of the carriage, she takes the reins of the dragon in her teeth and off we go. I hope things continue to go as well...but I could do without coming home with any more scars. Cer, my Handler's Hellhound puppy and my best friend is going to enjoy hearing about this adventure, assuming, that is, I live to tell the tale.

...A couple of days later...
My handler carries me into her room, petting me all the while. She lays me back in my usual spot in her room, on Cer's back and I try to bury myself in his fur. I am so tired, entertaining Captain Bellatrix was far more tiring than I imagine and actually making babies with her part...I am going to sleep for a week. Cer growls that what ever it is, he will make it alright like he always does. With that comforting thought still rattling around my head, I go to sleep, wondering what Bellatrix and my babies will look like and what my Handler will come up with for names. "

[SandySchreiber]

Moongara, I admire Reth's courage!

[SandySchreiber]

Tora, that was very sweet!